


I had a son too

by I_will_say_oh



Category: Glitch (TV 2015), Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Adopted Children, Demons, Established Relationship, Hell, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 08:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21223421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_will_say_oh/pseuds/I_will_say_oh
Summary: Hastur, losing patience, pushed the human aside and lifted a corner of the plaid that was covering the object of his interest."Paddy, this is wot, a human spawn?""A child, Hastur."





	I had a son too

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [У меня тоже был... сын](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/530579) by Argo (AnitaPond). 

"Paddy, wot do you have there?" Hastur frowned, trying to look behind the back of the ex-mayor of Yoorana.

Who, once again, said nothing and just tried to hide whatever he was hiding. Not that he had much chance against a demon. Hastur, losing patience, pushed the human aside and lifted a corner of the plaid that was covering the object of his interest.

"Paddy, this is wot, a human spawn?"

"A child, Hastur."

"Where did it crop up from?"

Hastur's voice was going steadily up in pitch, which happened when he was taken aback or worried. However, anyone standing close could also feel the strong demonic energy, badly contained in his man-shaped vessel. Paddy, for one, was standing close enough. It gave him an icy sensation running down his spine and he cringed, but nevertheless, he stepped closer and carefully took the demon's hand. Hastur squeezed back and his claws sunk in his flesh, hurting him only a little. The gesture appeared to work, though, and he calmed down a bit. His feelings were understandable, after all - not every day children got into Hell, and certainly not every day assistants hid them.

"So wot's it doing here?" Hastur asked, this time more calmly.

"I found him by chance, topside." Paddy looked pointedly up at the damp ceiling.

"And why were you hiding it?"

"Well..." The ex-mayor stammered, "I didn't know where to put him, uhm, because..."

"Wot?" Hastur was rapidly losing patience.

"He's still alive."

Hastur opened his mouth, but nothing came forth. Several seconds later, a winding screech burst out, like a leather glove on a wet stone wall. Hastur's free hand shot to his face, but he managed not to bite.

"Wot do you mean, alive?," he wailed, scowling. "How's that even possible?"

"I guess he must have been on the verge of death, because of the wounds he had when I found him," answered Paddy. "And I didn't know what to do, so I took him with me. I didn't know how you'd react, so I was hiding him. I'm sorry."

Hastur leaned over and looked at the boy's face. He seemed to be sleeping. His breathing was weak and from what he could see, he was covered in bruises, but still, he did seem, indeed, to be alive. For all the long years of his existence, Hastur had never seen the living walk around in Hell. He had no idea what paperwork was needed to put that one on record.

"So, what do we do with him?," asked Paddy this time, and Hastur grimaced at the feeling that responsibility was slowly and slyly being slid into his lap. So, he decided on the only logical step...

"We hide him."

***

The dank walls and ceiling were a permanent fixture of Hellish interior design, at least in the part where Hastur lived, but he had never liked it. So, in the room where he spend his time off, the walls were decorated with a semblance of tapestry. Paddy helped fix some of it after Hastur had ripped it to shreds, once, when he had been in a blind rage while mourning Ligur. Something inside him still hurt for him. After all, because of him Hastur had gotten to taste something that was normally unattainable for demons. The only thing that made him feel less lousy was that now he had Paddy - a sinful soul who had become his assistant not so long ago.

Hastur carefully laid the child on a mattress and stood next to him.

"You said he was wounded," he turned to Paddy, "but I have no idea how to take care of humans."

"Well, you take care of me," replied Paddy with a shrug.

"It's not the same," Hastur mumbled, embarrassed. "Besides, you got me into this bloody mess, so you fix it however you want."

Paddy smiled because despite the turn of speech, Hastur sounded involved enough. He kneeled next to the mattress and gingerly opened the boy's shirt. It was stuck to his skin because of the dried blood, but it revealed that the body of the child was covered in shallow, but numerous scratches as well as bruises. Paddy gasped and his hand flew to his mouth.

"Do we have any bandages?" he asked. In reply, there were only retreating footsteps.

***

Hastur returned about half an hour later, bringing ointment of some kind, and bandages. Soon, the boy's injuries were dressed as best as they could manage.

"I did this for you," Hastur said glumly when Paddy eyed the ointment jar in surprise. "You wouldn't believe who I had to ask for it."

"Thank you," whispered Paddy as he rested the child back on the mattress.

His caution was unnecessary, though. The boy didn't even stir in his sleep while he bandaged him. But now his breathing was getting deeper and some color was returning to his face. He seemed to be on the mend.

Paddy restlessly rubbed his face and sat next to Hastur on an old sofa he had in the room. Hastur, after a hesitation, put a hand on his shoulder, then pulled him to himself and then held him.

"Maybe now you tell me the real reason you dragged a half-alive human here?"

Paddy caressed the hand Hastur had on his shoulder and leaned his head on his chest.

"I had a son too..." he said, "but I died without ever getting to communicate with him properly. And then I was stuck here, and I couldn't go back until it was too late."

"So you decided to take care of this child instead? You don't even know him."

"Well, I... to tell you the truth, I've been watching him for a long time now," answered Paddy. "His name is Paul. He doesn't have anyone. Well, technically, he has parents, but they don't take care of him the way they should. If I was alive, I could... protect him."

He threw a sad look at the resting boy, and Hastur squeezed Paddy's hand that he was holding.

***

Paddy had dozed off at some point because when Paul finally opened his eyes, Hastur was the first to notice.

"Who are you?" was the first thing the boy said as he tried to crawl away. But then he moaned in pain and fell back on his elbow. "Where am I?"

"My name is Hastur." He felt like a fish out of water. He had precious little experience dealing with human children, and the last time did not end well. Paddy woke up just in time to rescue him.

"Hello, Paul, I'm Patrick Michael Fitzgerald, but you can call me just Paddy. Have you ever heard of Yoorana? I'm its mayor. Well, I was, when I was still alive."

Paul looked them both up and down with interest and his initial fright fell away from his face.

"So you two are dead?"

"No, just he," answered Hastur. "I've always been here. You got a problem with that?" And then he stuck a cigarette between his lips and lit it with the hellfire bursting around his hand.

The flame reflected in the boy's eyes, wide-open with admiration. Paddy facepalmed. Despite his proclaimed detachment from the world of humans, Hastur never once missed a chance to boast with his demonic powers in front of the mortals, usually instilling holy horror in them.

"How are you feeling," Paddy suddenly remembered the problem at hand. Paul frowned and tried to sit up more comfortably.

"Everything hurts," he answered. "What happened? Ah, I think I remember... them again..."

"Who?"

"The neighbors'... well, daddy Charlie calls them little shits. He tried to protect me, but there was more of them. That's alright though, one day I'll learn how to fight properly, and then..."

Paul eventually lay back on the mattress. Paddy could see that even though he was getting better, he was still weak and his injuries still hurt.

"I think I've seen you somewhere, Paddy," he said, closing his eyes, and then he dozed off.

"He's asleep," said Paddy and turned, but Hastur was nowhere to be seen.

He peeked out into the corridor and spotting no trace of the demon, he lay down next to the boy and also closed his eyes. He missed his human connections, and most of all he missed Beau. Paul somehow resembled him, and Paddy wished he could stay with him and Hastur.

***

When Hastur returned, there was an unhinged smile plastered on his face. Paddy felt the need to sit down.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, all's well, I just took a walk around town."

This did not convince Paddy - judging by his voice, Hastur was way too happy with himself.

"Alone?"

The demon shrugged silently, went to the mattress and picked Paul up. The boy, even in his slumber, wrapped his arms around him and pressed close.

"Where are you taking him?" Paddy jumped up. "He's still weak, and I saw his family, he shouldn't be home, I can take care of him better-"

"Paddy," replied Hastur somberly, "I may be a demon, but even I know that a living human's place is not in Hell. He may seem better now, but he'll die here if we don't take him back. And it's not his time yet. His soul is too pure to stay here, you know?" Hastur gave a toothy grin and licked his teeth. "Maybe later I'll drop by and work a temptation or two, but not now. The boy needs to go home."

With that, he headed up to the surface. Paddy, as soon as he managed to close his mouth after that speech, followed him in a hurry.

"But... what about the "little shits" and his parents? How will he handle all of them?"

"Oh, there's no need to worry about them," Hastur answered with a smile.

"What have you done?"

Hastur chuckled quietly and replied nothing. At the sight of the demon's obvious delight, Paddy felt the chills again. Even if the two of them were close, moments like this still scared him sometimes. 

To Paddy's surprise, they didn't go to the house where Paul's family lived. Instead, they stopped by a smallish stable. The faint lights of a two-storied house some distance away illuminated the scene. Hastur entered without any trouble, still carrying the boy in his arms, and just as carefully as before, he put him on a bed they found there.

"Daddy Charlie," remembered Paddy, surprised that Hastur knew the place. Then he smiled.

The demon was about to leave, but Paddy stayed by the bedside and looked at the sleeping child.

"Sleep tight," he said, caressing Paul's hair, and after a moment's thought, he leaned down and gave him a kiss on the forehead. "I would have liked it if you could stay with us, but you shouldn't. Take care, live your life, and know that no matter what, I'll be watching over you."

Paddy rubbed his cheeks, wet with tears, and followed the demon out. Before they went back to Hell, Paddy held Hastur and watched how the silhouette of "daddy Charlie" appeared in a window.

"Thank you for taking care of him. I didn't even think I might do him harm, leaving him with us in Hell."

Hastur squeezed around his waist and put his head on his shoulder.

"And by the way, I still have a lot of questions about where you went today, twice."

Hastur lightly bit his shoulder.

"If you really want me to, I'll tell you when we get back," he purred.

Paddy gasped quietly and then they disappeared under the earth the same way they had come, leaving behind only a faint smell of smoke and wet leaves.

**Author's Note:**

> For the translation, I thank my wonderful translator and beta reader!


End file.
